‘It’s my heart! I felt it coming on earlier … I have had pains off and on … for some time … but they have never been as … bad as this before.’
‘Oh, Angus, I’d better go for the doctor, and it’ll take me ages to walk to Huntly. We’re so far from anything here, I wish we’d a telephone.’
‘My old bicycle … in the shed.’
She ran downstairs and grabbed her coat. It was many years since she had done any cycling, but it was something you never forgot. The bicycle was red with rust, the tyres were bald and flat, but she had no time to pump them. She had a little difficulty in swinging her leg over the bar, but after steadying herself against the door of the shed, she managed to get on and pedalled as fast as she could up the long track, her whole body jarring each time the front wheel hit a stone. By the time she reached the road, her lungs were prickly-tight, but she couldn’t afford to ease off.
She was still pedalling furiously when she heard a car coming behind her, and, hoping that the driver would give her a lift, she stopped and jumped off. Letting her ancient steed fall to the ground, she stood waving both arms, and the car drew to a halt. ‘I’m Mrs Gunn and my husband’s ill,’ she managed to gasp. ‘He told me to get the doctor.’
The driver opened the passenger door for her. ‘Would that be Angus Gunn?’ he asked, smiling. ‘I was his first wife’s doctor, but I’ve never attended him. He must feel bad before he’s asking for me.’
After making an intricate turn around, he observed, ‘You were lucky catching me here, I was on my way home.’
Seeing that she was unable to answer, he said nothing else until she got her breath back. ‘What seems to be the trouble with Angus?’
‘He says it’s his heart, and I’ve biked … oh, I’ve left it lying in the middle of the road.’
‘If nobody’s come a cropper on it and mangled it, I’ll pick it up later.’
They had barely two miles to go to reach the house, and he ran upstairs in front of her. Angus was still in great pain, and Betty watched while Doctor Graham sounded his chest and asked him if he’d had anything like this before. At last, he turned to her. ‘If you come out to my car with me, Mrs Gunn, I’ll give you something for him.’
‘Give him one just now,’ he told her, when he gave her a handful of small pills, ‘and one before you go to bed, then one morning and night for the next week. He has had a fairly severe heart attack, and he is lucky to be alive. He will have to stay in bed for some time yet, and even after he thinks he is fit again, he should take it easy for a few months.’
‘I’ll make sure of that,’ she vowed.
‘I’ll come back tomorrow, though there’s really nothing more I can do, except give you some more pills. He will always need to keep some handy.’
When she returned to the bedroom with a glass of water, she waited until Angus swallowed the pill then said, ‘It’s bed rest for you for the next few weeks, and pottering round the house for a long time after that.’
‘What about the shop?’
‘Don’t worry about the shop,’ she said, brightly. ‘I’ll look after it. I can teach myself to drive … I’ll take the car up and down the track tonight till I get the hang of it, I’ve a vague idea of how the gears work.’
It was significant that her husband did not even try to dissuade her, and it made her understand more clearly how much his brush with death had affected him.
George had walked past the baker’s shop several times, but had been careful not to let Katie see him. He had heard no gossip about her being seen with a man, so he was almost sure that she hadn’t taken Sammy back to Cullen, but he couldn’t face her. He wasn’t even sure that he wanted to speak to her again, for he had been thinking quite a lot about Lizann. Should he go to see her? It wasn’t far on the bus, and she might have changed her mind about Peter.
‘You’ll be pleased to know I’ve finished with Katie,’ he told his mother.
Her thin mouth turned up in the semblance of a smile. ‘I am that. I aye said she wasna the lass for you. You want somebody that had a proper mother and father …’
He rose automatically to Katie’s defence. ‘You don’t know she hadn’t. You’re like all the old wives here, putting two and two together and making five.’
‘I’m not an old wife!’ she cried, indignantly. ‘It’s Mary Ann that’s an old wife! A crabbit old wife that turned her back on her only son because she didna like the lassie he was going wi’, and she needna think folk believed her lies. There’s folk here ken …’
‘Ach, Ma! There’s folk here would say anything to make a scandal, and you’ve no need to worry. You’ll not have Katie Mair as a daughter-in-law. I’m going to Buckie to see a lass I met in Yarmouth.’ He knew his mother would make sure Katie heard about it, but he was past caring.
When George arrived in Buckie, he thought of buying a box of chocolates before he went to the Yardie – where Lizann had said she lived – but thought it might look as if he were bribing her to give up her lad. The cluster of old houses he came to was brightened by spotless white lace curtains at each window and brass knockers on most of the doors. Never having asked her, he didn’t know what surname to look for, and had made up his mind to try every door until he struck lucky, but he was saved the trouble when Lizann came out of a house farther along.
A wide smile transformed her face when she spotted him. ‘George! What are you doing here?’
‘I’ve come to see you.’
‘What about Katie? Does she know?’
‘I broke off with her. What about Peter?’
‘I’ve promised to marry him.’
Wishing that he hadn’t given in to his whim – it had been foolish when he knew she loved another man – George said, as heartily as he could, ‘Congratulations! And I hope you’ll be very happy together.’
He made to walk away, but she held his arm. ‘You can’t go just like that.’
‘I think I’d better, before I forget myself and kiss you.’
‘George, I’m sorry,’ she whispered.
‘Don’t be. I’m pleased for you.’
‘But I still love you, and all.’
His gut twisting, he groaned, ‘Don’t say it, Lizann.’
‘It’s true, and I wish you could kiss me.’
Looking at her again, he could see the pain in her eyes, the same pain that was tearing him apart, but as they gazed longingly, hopelessly, at each other, a voice called, ‘Who’s that you’re speaking to, Lizann?’
‘It’s my mother,’ she whispered, then raised her voice to answer. ‘It’s a man asking how to get to Portessie. I’ve been trying to tell him, but it would be easier if I took him up and showed him.’
‘Aye, that would be best, and you’re going up to the High Street, ony road.’
So, over-aware of each other and unable to let even their hands touch, they walked back towards the main part of the town. ‘She’s waiting for me to take back some flour,’ Lizann said, tearfully. ‘She forgot to get any herself when she was up the town yesterday and she hasna enough for the pastry she’s making. I’ll have to hurry, I’m sorry, George.’
‘I should never have come. We said all that had to be said in Yarmouth.’
‘I’m awful glad to see you.’
‘Forget about me, Lizann. Marry your lad and be happy.’
‘Will you marry Katie now?’
‘I don’t think so. I said things to her that … maybe I expected too much.’
When they reached the point where one road led up to High Street and another went down along the seafront, Lizann suddenly said, in alarm, ‘Oh, here’s my auntie. You’d better go down that way.’ She pointed to the lower road, her voice changing as she said, ‘Straight along there. You’ll see all the big houses up on the brae, that’s Portessie.’
‘Thank you,’ George said, politely, though he felt as if he were being slowly and effectively strangled.
He walked away quickly, not daring to look behind him and carrying o
n past the harbour until he saw the impressive layers of houses on the hill overlooking the bay. Giving a sigh that conveyed the misery he felt, he turned into the first opening. He may as well have a look round Portessie since he was here. It would pass some time and let him gather his shaken emotions.
When Ina went into the baker’s, she waited until there was only one person in front of her, and then leaned over the woman’s shoulder. ‘My George is away to see a Buckie lassie he met in Yarmouth,’ she announced in her ear, loudly enough for everyone in the shop to hear. ‘He saw a lot o’ her when they were doon there, and I think it’s serious.’
Katie felt her legs shaking and tried not to show how the information had affected her. When it was Mrs Buchan’s turn to be served, she moved to the counter and looked at Katie in obviously insincere apology. ‘I forgot George had been going wi’ you, but it’s ower, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it’s over.’ Katie’s smile was crooked.
‘Aye, well, you ken what the men are. They see a bonnie lassie and they’re like a dog after a bitch on heat.’
‘Was there anything else, Mrs Buchan?’
‘No, that’s the lot.’
When Ina went out, the next customer said, ‘She’s a bitch herself, that one. I wouldna believe a word she says. She was just trying to annoy you.’
Katie managed a laugh. ‘It’ll take more than her to annoy me.’ But her heart was aching at the thought of George with somebody else.
When she went home, she said, ‘George has another girl.’
Mary Ann’s eyebrows lifted. ‘Already?’
‘He’d been going out with her in Yarmouth, that’s why he’d wanted to break off with me.’
‘Did I not tell you? Well, there’s better fish in the sea than ever came out.’
Despite her heartache, Katie had to laugh. ‘I’m off fish for good, Grandma.’
‘You’ll meet somebody else.’
‘I don’t want to meet anybody else. It’s better not to get married and settle down.’
Mary Ann pursed her shrivelled mouth. ‘If I hadna married your grandfather after … you’d not be here the day.’
‘It seems to me there’s a lot of ifs about why I’m here,’ Katie sighed, ‘and I wish I knew what they were. I don’t know anything about my mother and father.’
Her grandmother smiled mysteriously. ‘You’ll find out some day. Now, you’ll have to dish up the supper, for I havena felt right the whole day.’
Katie rose and crossed to the range. ‘Your legs again?’
‘Them and all, but something else, a dizzy feeling, like I was going to faint, sometimes.’
‘You’d better go to your bed, and I’ll get the doctor.’
‘You’ll do nae such thing. I’ll be better the morrow.’
That night, Katie lay thinking about George. No wonder he had been so ready to believe the worst of her, but he should have told her he loved another girl. She would have thought more of him if he’d been honest, but he had let her down and made a fool of her. She had nobody now but her grandmother, who was far from being in the best of health. If only she had a mother to tell her troubles and fears to …
When Katie went through to the kitchen in the morning, Mary Ann was sitting by the unlit fire, still in her thick winceyette nightgown. ‘I’m nae fit for a thing the day,’ she complained.
‘That’s all right, Grandma. I’ll soon have the fire going and the porridge made.’
‘Aye.’ The old woman leaned back and closed her eyes, but after a few moments they jerked open again. ‘Dinna you go telling the doctor, mind. I’m nae as bad as that.’
‘It wouldn’t hurt you just to let him check you over.’
‘He’s not coming in here poking about at me. Once you let doctors start that, you’re on the road out. I’m sure they’ve got an agreement wi’ the undertakers – so many dead bodies a month.’
‘Oh, Grandma, that’s daft. Maybe you just need a tonic, or tablets, or something.’
‘A blue pill, that’s what I’m needing.’
Katie was horrified at this. ‘Nothing of the kind! You’ll last for years yet.’
‘I dinna want to last if I canna do things. I dinna want to end my days a slavering, useless wreck.’
Certain that her grandmother felt much worse than she made out, Katie made up her mind to tell the doctor, whatever the consequences. Maybe it was nothing serious, but it should be seen to.
Passing the doctor’s house on her way to work, she left a message for him to call, then went to ask the baker if she could have time off. ‘My grandma’s not feeling well,’ she told him, ‘and I can’t leave her on her own all day.’
John Walker shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Katie. The wife’s away to Macduff to see her mother, she’s sick, and all. She said she’d be back about twelve, and you can go the minute she comes in. Will that do you?’
‘It’ll have to.’
Katie was on edge all forenoon, and at one minute past twelve, when Belle Walker came in and relieved her, she flew down the hill and found Doctor Fleming in the kitchen with Mary Ann, a very different Mary Ann, with frightened eyes staring out of a grey twisted face.
‘It’s a good thing you called me in,’ he told Katie. ‘Your grandmother’s had a seizure, and I can’t get her into bed by myself.’
It took them some time to lift the solid old woman through to her room, and when they got her settled, Katie eyed the doctor fearfully. ‘How bad is she? Will she get better?’
‘Well, I’ve been here over an hour, and I don’t know how long it was before that when it struck her, so it’s a good sign that she’s still alive. However, she’ll need constant care over the next few days until I can assess the damage done. Is there anyone to look after her?’
‘Just me, and I’d have to ask the Walkers if I can have some time off.’
‘Would you like to run up and ask them now? I’ll wait with her until you get back.’
Mary Ann’s crooked, shrunken mouth opened, but no words came out, and it dawned on Katie that the old woman couldn’t speak. There was no time to ask Doctor Fleming anything, for he’d be anxious to get on with his round, so she raced back to the bakery where Belle Walker was most sympathetic and understanding. ‘It’s only right you should look after your Grandma, Katie, I’ll manage myself for a few days.’
When she returned to the house, Katie went outside with the doctor, moving away from the window so that Mary Ann wouldn’t hear. ‘Will she ever be able to speak again?’
‘Most stroke victims regain some power of speech,’ he told her, ‘it depends on the severity of the attack. She has the tenacity to fight, so she has a good chance, but she may never be able to walk or talk properly again.’
‘She hasn’t been able to walk properly for a while. Her knees are full of rheumatics.’
The doctor set his hat on his head. ‘I’ll get the district nurse to hand in a bedpan.’
‘Thanks, Doctor.’ Not having had time to think about the problem there would be because of the outside dry lavatory, Katie was thankful that he had solved it before it arose.
He gripped Katie’s shoulder for a moment, then smiled broadly. ‘I can’t see Mary Ann being speechless for very long. I know how you must feel, Katie, but try not to worry. She could live for years.’
When he went out, the girl went back to her grandmother’s room. ‘I’m going to look after you, Grandma, and you’re going to be fine.’
Noticing the agitation in Mary Ann’s eyes, she explained, ‘Mrs Walker’s given me some days off, till you’re on your feet again.’
That seemed to put the old woman’s mind at ease, so Katie straightened the bedcovers and went through to make a pot of tea. She was pouring milk into the cups when the district nurse knocked and walked in carrying an aluminium bedpan. ‘The doctor told me to hand this in,’ she smiled, ‘and I’ve taken a feeding cup, as well. You’ll likely need it.’
‘Oh, thank you.’ This was something else Ka
tie had not reckoned on.
Nurse Macphail offered to show Katie how to hold the patient’s head up and tilt the spout of the feeding cup to her lips. That first drink proved to be a bit messy, most of the tea dribbling out of the stricken woman’s twisted mouth on to the towel which had been spread over the bedcovers to protect them. ‘Very good, Mary Ann,’ the nurse assured her. ‘You’ll soon get up to it.’
Katie had just begun to learn how much her grandmother would have to rely on her, but by bedtime she understood that Mary Ann was totally dependent on her for everything, and that letting her use the bedpan was a mammoth task.
In the morning, Katie was pleased to see that the old woman’s face and mouth were not so squint, and when she took a cup of soup through to her in the middle of the day, she was delighted to receive a grateful grunt.
Doctor Fleming called in every afternoon, Katie gladly reporting the daily improvement in speech. ‘Sometimes she can’t say the words clearly,’ she told him on the fourth day, ‘but I can understand what she’s meaning. And she can move her left arm a little bit now.’
He nodded. ‘Her speech is coming on nicely, but …’ He broke off, shaking his head. ‘There is no sign of progress in her legs. They seem to be completely paralysed, and I don’t think she’ll ever walk again.’
Katie gasped. ‘Is there no hope at all?’
‘There’s always hope,’ he sighed, ‘but I’m afraid it would need a miracle.’ His voice became brisker. ‘I believe you could help her to regain the use of her left arm by making her exercise regularly. She’ll likely fight against you, but just persevere. If you have a sponge ball, give her that to squeeze, which should get her fingers moving again. It will be hard work, Katie, but it’s the only way.’
‘Will she be bed-ridden for the rest of her life?’
‘It appears that way to me. Do you feel that it will be too much for you? Can you afford to pay for her to go into a private nursing home?’
‘I want to look after her myself.’
‘It’ll be a full-time job, Katie.’
‘Yes, I understand that. I’ll go to the bakery when she’s having her nap and tell them I can’t go back to work.’
The Three Kings Page 28